Father and Son
by sjmax
Summary: Blaine and Kurt have just discovered how happy they make each other. They have kissed for the first time. They are excited about the future, but Blaine is hiding a terrible secret. Will he confide in Kurt? Or will he push him away? Klaine.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Kurt."

"But you were excited about it!" Kurt pouted. "I was excited."

"I just can't."

There was something in Blaine's voice. Kurt frowned into the phone.

"Are you okay?" Blaine didn't answer. "Blaine?" There was a sound that made his heart ache. "Are you _crying?"_

"No." Blaine laughed, but it sounded false.

"Blaine. Please. What's wrong?"

There was another silence. Kurt closed his eyes. He could hear the strangled sound of Blaine's silent tears. A tear fell down his own cheek.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, finally. Then he hung up.

Kurt continued to hold the phone for a moment. He couldn't believe Blaine was being so distant. They had enjoyed a wonderful evening two nights earlier and then the night before that and the night before that. They had laughed and shared stories. And they had kissed. Their first kiss.

The highly anticipated, interactive 'Greatest Showman' had been on Kurt's calendar for weeks. He had thought it would just be him and Rachel, but then Blaine had said he was hoping to go too. He had his outfit planned. It was going to be a wonderful night.

He leant against his locker feeling sorry for himself and miserable. The day seemed, suddenly, to stretch ahead before him drearily.

Then Rachel marched up to him. He groaned inwardly.

"Why are you moping?" she demanded. That day, 'The Greatest Showman Day', as they had been calling it, was eagerly anticipated by Rachel too. "Tonight's the night." She beamed at him. He wasn't sure he could cope with her intensity.

"Blaine's not coming," Kurt pushed out his bottom lip.

"Oh," Rachel assessed the situation quickly. Blaine being there didn't matter to her much. She had much preferred the idea when it was just her and Kurt, but clearly, Blaine's decision now threatened to spoil the mood. "I'm sorry," Rachel said. She made a sympathetic noise. "We'll still have a wonderful time though." She looked at him and panic suddenly threatened to consume her. "You are still going, aren't you?"

Kurt sighed. He wasn't sure he had the heart for it.

"I'm just worried about Blaine," he said. He looked at Rachel and saw the panic in her eyes. "Yes, I'll still come," he said. He allowed her to hug him and squeal and then talk the whole way to the Choir Room, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

* * *

Blaine held the phone in his hand. He stared at it and wondered what Kurt would be thinking. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, but more fell. He felt a pain in his chest. An aching pain that threatened to consume him. A sob caught in his throat. He lay down on the bed and cried, silently, into his pillow.

* * *

Kurt raised his hand.

"Yes, Kurt?"

Kurt looked at Mr Schue and then around at everyone. These people were his friends. He trusted them all.

"It's Blaine," he said.

"What about him?"

"I think something's wrong."

Mr Schue nodded, listening. "Do you have any more for me to go on?" he said.

"He was fine yesterday," Mercedes said.

"Have you had a lover's tiff?" Santana laughed.

Mr Schue held up his hand. "Can we hear Kurt out, please," he said, glaring at Santana. He looked back at Kurt. "Why do you think something's wrong Kurt? You know him more than any of us here, so tell us, and if we can help, we'll help."

Kurt sighed. "That's just it, there isn't anything specific, but I just have this feeling…" He trailed off realising how weak it sounded.

"I have a feeling like that too," Brittany said. "Usually, it's okay once I've been to the bathroom."

Kurt ignored her. Everyone ignored her.

"Blaine has cancelled a date for tonight," Rachel said. She crossed her arms in agitation. "Usually not something to be worried about, but it _is _The Greatest Showman Interactive experience."

"Kurt, buddy. Cancelling a date is no big thing. He might just be feeling a little overwhelmed."

Kurt looked at Finn and smiled at him.

"I know that," he said. "And I know how it makes me sound, but you're right Mr Schue, I do know him better than everyone here. I know he's not been with us long and we've only been an item for a few weeks, but I know he's hiding something."

Mr Schue nodded slowly. "Okay," he said. "I'll make a call to his dad. Check in on him."

"Thank you." Kurt smiled gratefully. He breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

"I just had a call from one of your teachers."

Blaine looked at his dad from his bed.

"Oh?" He sat up, nervously. "What did he want?"

"Seems to think your friends are worried about you," Blaine thought of Kurt. He knew he would guess something was wrong. His dad walked further into the room. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Blaine shrugged. "No idea," he said. He tried to keep calm. Tried not to show his fear. "I haven't said anything, honestly." He laughed awkwardly. "It was probably Kurt. He likes to make a drama out of things."

"I don't want teachers ringing me up," his dad said. His voice was calm, but Blaine heard the edge of irritation.

He shook his head. "Absolutely, Sir. I agree. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

His dad stood there for a moment appraising his son.

"And how are you going to do that?" he asked with a smile.

* * *

Mr Schue looked up with a welcoming smile. Blaine was standing there. He looked nervous.

"Can I have a moment?" he said.

"Come in," Mr Schue said. He crossed his arms across his desk. "Sit down." Blaine shifted his bag and stayed standing. "Is everything okay?"

Blaine shook his head. "Not really," he said. "I don't want you to call my dad again," he said. "You had no business to in the first place."

"I was worried about you. We all were."

Blaine laughed without mirth. "You mean Kurt was and he got you all thinking something was going on?" Blaine sat down. "Look, Mr Schue. My dad has a hard time with me being gay and it's something we're working through together. I need to take it slowly with Kurt and that's all there is to it."

Mr Schue nodded. "Okay," he said.

"I don't see why that's so hard to understand."

"No," Mr Schue leaned back in his chair. "You need to talk about this with Kurt then."

"I know and I will. I just didn't realise he'd make such a big thing about it." He smiled dryly. "I cancelled a date," he said.

Mr Schue laughed. "It was pretty big news." Blaine stood up. "Just one thing, Blaine," Mr Schue said, suddenly serious. "Is your dad giving you a hard time? I mean, would you like Miss Pillsbury to call him?"

"God, no!" Blaine looked horrified. "No, please. No more calls." He smiled again, but Mr Schue saw the fear in his eyes. "He just needs time. He loves me, I know that."

Mr Schue nodded and watched Blaine leave. He knew there was no more he could do, but he saw that Kurt had been right to worry.

* * *

Blaine reached over and took Kurt's hand.

"It's not over," he said. He smiled. "Look at me, Kurt."

Kurt looked up at Blaine. Why was he so beautiful?

"It sounds as if you're breaking up with me…" He took his hand away and leaned back in his chair. The café was busy and loud. "When someone says they need time, it only ever means one thing."

Blaine sighed. "I just need you to understand."

"First you cancel the Greatest Showman which, by the way, was fantastic, then you tell me you need time…" He frowned and leaned forwards again. It wasn't the best place to be having such a personal conversation. "If you want to break up with me, I'd rather you just say. Put me out of my misery."

Blaine stared into Kurt's eyes. He smiled again.

"Why are you smiling?" Kurt asked quietly.

"I'm smiling, because you're cute." He leaned in closer. "And I don't want to break up with you," he whispered. His lips touched Kurt's. The noise of the café had faded to nothing. It was just him and Blaine.

Blaine leaned back again. His smile had grown. "Now do you believe me?" he asked.

Kurt's heart was hammering in his chest. He touched his lips with his fingertips and then smiled.

"I'll wait then," he said.

* * *

Blaine was sitting in his room alone. He was lying on his back, on his bed, staring at the ceiling. When had his life got so complicated? Before Kurt, everything was fine. Now, nothing was. Things were spiralling out of control and he didn't know how long he could hang on for. It was so hard. Pretending all the time. It was exhausting.

He heard the front door bang. He sat up. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told himself. His throat suddenly felt dry. He licked his lips.

He heard a crash from the kitchen. He stood up and watched his door. He tried to calm his breathing. There was another crash. Blaine winced. He heard footsteps.

His door opened.

"Hey Dad," he said. He couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.

His dad stood there, swaying slight. He glared at him and stumbled into the room.

"You going out tonight, _son_?" he asked. Blaine shook his head. "You sure?" His dad walked over to him. Blaine could smell the booze. His dad smiled. It was an ugly sneer. "You don't want to go and hang out at any of those _queer _places?"

Blaine took a step backwards. "No, Dad," he said. He held out a hand in supplication. "I don't go there. Let me fix you some food."

"I don't want food," he said. "I want a son who's a man, not a faggot!" Blaine winced.

"Dad. Please…"

"Dad, _please…" _His dad laughed. It was a cold and cruel sound. He closed the gap between them. He studied his son's face. He looked disgusted. "Someone saw you," he said. "Broad daylight. Kissing another boy."

Blaine shook his head. He was too afraid to say anything more. He watched his dad, carefully, like the hunted watches the hunter.

"Sitting in a café. Surrounded by people. You were _seen!"_

"I'm sorry…" Blaine felt the wall behind him. He had nowhere else to go.

"You're sorry?" his dad said. "Sorry?" He took a deep, cleansing breath. "I'll make you sorry," he said. He clenched his fist and rammed it into his son's stomach.

Blaine doubled up in pain. He dropped to the ground. He looked up at his dad, tears streaming down his cheeks. His dad punched again. The blow landed on Blaine's side, near his kidneys. The pain shot through his body. Another blow landed and another. He had fire raging inside him now.

"You can't even fight me," his dad hissed. He stood there panting for a moment. His fists still clenched.

Blaine lay on the floor crying. His arms covering his head.

"No more," he sobbed. "Please, Dad. No more."

His dad spat on the floor and then he left the room.

Blaine lay there until he got cold. Then he struggled to his feet. The pain was excruciating, but the bed was close. He lay down gingerly. Sleep would make it all go away, he told himself as he closed his eyes.

He lay awake until the house was silent, and dark, then he swallowed some paracetamol and took a shower. Moving was bad, but he would take more paracetamol in the morning. Then he would get dressed and do his hair and practice his smile.

He was getting good at pretending.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr Schue looked around at the Glee Club members and smiled.

"I know you think we need to spend more time doing modern music…"

"Any time would be good," Kurt muttered under his breath.

Mr Schue ignored him. "But the point is, we can learn a lot from old musicians. Artists who lived in a different era. Experienced a different life." He looked at all of them intently. "Who here, would dare to say a word against John Lennon, for example?"

The choir room stayed quiet.

"I didn't think so. How about the Rolling Stones? Or the Who? David Bowie?"

"They're all great artists Mr Schue, but we prefer listening to stuff that was written less than a hundred years ago…"

Mercedes looked around for support.

"Speak for yourself," Rachel said. "I for one, value those artists. They are inspirational and offer us so much more…"

Mr Schue put up his hand. "Yes, thank you, Rachel." He smiled. "The point is guys, that some of the older artists had a different view of the world. Their music tells a story in the same way a great piece of literature does." He paused and walked to the whiteboard. "I've been so focused on you guys getting to express yourself in Glee Club and, of course, the winning has been great, but shouldn't we be learning something too?" He took hold of his marker. He looked at them all again and waited.

"I'm totally into the old dudes," Puck said. "I mean I never thought I'd dig Neil Diamond, but you know, 'Sweet Caroline' totally did something to me." He grinned.

"Thanks Puck, but we're not going to be singing any Neil Diamond." He put the marker to the whiteboard and scrawled a name. "The artist I want you to listen to. To explore. Is… Cat Stevens."

Finn put his hand up. "Can I say something?" he said. Mr Schue nodded with an air of resignation. Finn stood up and faced the rest of the Glee Club. "I gotta say… Cat Stevens is awesome." He looked at Mr Schue and smiled. "My mom played Cat Stevens when I was growing up and, sure, a lot of it is kinda dated now, but there's a lot worth listening to."

"Thank you, Finn," Mr Schue clapped him on the back, relieved.

"But his music is so _old_." Kurt rolled his eyes. "There's so much modern music that speaks to us."

"I'm with Finn and Mr Schue," Puck said standing up. "I had a stepdad a few years back. I hated him. But the guy liked his music and played Springsteen, ACDC and when he was feeling mellow, he put the Cat on." Puck stared at Kurt. "It's just him and his guitar in the studio. His music means stuff."

Kurt folded his arms. He wasn't convinced, but there was no point in arguing.

The bell jangled and he stood up. He loved Glee club, but he was sometimes very frustrated at the lack of imagination in the room. He looked around and sighed. He missed Blaine not being there.

"Kurt, can you hang back?" Mr Schue said. Kurt rolled his eyes again. It was a day of it. He sat back down and folded his arms.

Mr Schue waited until the room had emptied.

"Mr Schue, I'm sorry and I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I'm entitled to voice my opinion."

"This has nothing to do with Glee Club, Kurt."

"Oh?" Kurt looked at Mr Schue and saw something was troubling him.

"Where's Blaine today?"

Kurt uncrossed his arms. "Sick," he said quietly. "He called me this morning and said he was ill."

"Did he say what was wrong?"

Kurt shook his head slowly. "Why?"

"I think you were right to be worried, Kurt."

"Did you talk to his dad?"

Mr Schue nodded. "I did, but I didn't get very far. He was quite…uncommunicative. Have you met him?"

Kurt shook his head. "I've never even been to Blaine's house."

Mr Schue sighed. "Blaine came and saw me yesterday afternoon…have you spoken to him since then?"

Kurt shook his head again. "He's been distant," he said. "I'm trying to be patient."

"Good. He needs his friends," Mr Schue said.

"Why do think something's wrong, Mr Schue? What did Blaine say?" Kurt felt his heart pick up. He knew he was a drama queen. He embraced it, but sometimes it was exhausting.

"I can't betray his confidence Kurt," Mr Schue said. "You know that. But let's watch out for him."

Kurt nodded. "Okay," he said. He was wondering if he should skip class and go over to Blaine's. Talk to him. Try and get him to confide in him.

"Let him come to you Kurt," Mr Schue said as if reading Kurt's mind.

* * *

Blaine looked at his phone. Another missed call from Kurt. He sighed. He couldn't talk to him. He didn't know what to say. He felt frightened and alone. And ashamed.

He climbed out of bed stiffly and went to his bathroom. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, wincing as he moved. His bruises were a violent purple. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the cold glass. He tried to breathe deeply, but it hurt him. He suddenly felt so helpless. He felt the heat of his tears as they sprang from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Then he looked at himself again.

His face crumpled, but he held on. Letting go would be the end. He clenched his fists and thought about smashing the glass, but if his dad found out… He swallowed and tried to regain control. He held his gaze.

No one must ever know.

He pulled his t-shirt back over his head and walked away from his tormented reflection.

* * *

"I've been calling you."

Blaine smiled. "I know Kurt." He held up his phone. "Seven missed calls." He stopped at his locker. "I was in bed asleep most of the day, and then I had this thing with my dad last night and he likes me to be phone free." He grimaced.

"You were in bed ill all day, but then you had a 'thing' with your dad?"

Blaine buried his head in his locker. "I think it was a 24- hour thing, you know. I felt good once I had woken up and it's kind of a tradition…"

"What did you do?"

"What?" Blaine was putting books in his bag.

"With your dad? What did you do?"

"Oh." Blaine looked at Kurt and shrugged. "Just Monday night TV you know. Watched a game…"

"You watched a game?"

Kurt laughed. Blaine laughed too.

"I know, right." He closed his locker. "See you in Glee Club."

Kurt stayed standing at Blaine's locker. He saw Finn down the corridor.

"Hey, Finn," he called out. Finn turned around with a smile. "Was there a game on TV last night?"

Finn shook his head. "Nope, why?"

"Just wondering," said Kurt.

* * *

Only Finn was sitting in the choir room when Blaine walked in. He looked up and smiled. Blaine smiled back. He felt exhausted. Every step was painful, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to hide his discomfort.

"You okay, dude?" Finn asked.

Blaine smiled and was about to reply when arms suddenly circled him from behind. He yelled out in pain and stumbled away.

He bent over, panting. He was starting to think he may have a broken rib.

"My God, Blaine!" What's wrong?"

Blaine put out a hand to stop Kurt coming closer.

"Nothing." Blaine's face was almost grey, and a sheen of sweat had broken out on his face.

"Don't tell me nothing!" Kurt said gently. He stepped towards Blaine and went to touch him.

"Don't!" Blaine yelled, panic stricken. "Please." He stood up straighter. "Just leave me alone," he said. "You have to leave me alone, Kurt."

Finn came and put an arm around Kurt as Blaine staggered from the choir room.

"You okay?" Finn asked. Kurt wiped the tear that had rolled down his face. He shook his head. "Who did that to Blaine?" he asked.

"Did what?"

Mr Schue walked in smiling, but the smile died on his face when he saw Kurt.

"What's happened?" He looked at Finn.

"I would say someone's used Blaine for a punch bag," Finn said.

"What?" Kurt felt sick. He had seen the pain on his face, but to think someone had beaten him up. He put his hand to his mouth, not wanting to believe it.

"Are you sure Finn?" Mr Schue said.

Finn nodded. "I'm positive," he said. "I know what it looks like to try and hide that pain."

Mr Schue looked at Kurt. "Go and try and find him. Bring him back, if you can. Don't put pressure on him, Kurt. He has to want our help."

"Let me go," Finn said. He put a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. "It might be less confronting…" He shrugged.

Puck and Quinn walked in. Then Tina and Mike.

"What's going on?" Puck looked at Finn.

Tina put her arm around Kurt. "What's happened?" she asked.

Kurt looked at Finn and nodded as the tears continued to flow down his cheeks. Finn gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll find him, and I'll bring him back and then we can work out what to do." He looked at Mr Schue. "Right, Mr Schue?"

Mr Schue applied a smile and nodded. "Right," he said.

But he had a terrible feeling it was a whole lot worse than any of them could imagine.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning classes had begun, and the corridors were empty. Finn stood and listened, unsure. He heard chairs scraping across the floor and the muffled noise of chatter from behind closed doors. A teacher shouted and someone laughed.

He walked to the boys' bathroom and listened at the door. A tap was turned on and off again and then he heard someone kicking a bin in anger. He knew Blaine was hiding out and he paused for a moment; he didn't want to say the wrong thing and diplomacy wasn't particularly a strong point of his.

It was suddenly very quiet from inside the bathroom. Finn took a deep breath and walked in. Blaine was standing there looking at his reflection in the mirror. He turned to look at Finn. His eyes were haunted.

"Hey buddy," Finn said. He smiled and went to the sink next to Blaine and peered in the mirror. He tweaked a bit of hair, then glanced at Blaine's reflection. "Whatever it is, I just want you to know that you can trust me."

Blaine said nothing. He was rigid and Finn noticed his hands were clenched by his sides.

"You can trust all of us," Finn said.

Blaine grimaced. "What do you want, Finn?"

Finn turned to face Blaine. "I want to help," he said. "I saw what happened in the choir room."

Blaine's eyes blazed. "What happened exactly?"

Finn didn't reply at first. It was obvious Blaine was terrified and getting him to admit he needed help was not going to be easy, but he was a friend. He had to try.

"I can protect you," Finn said. He knew how futile it sounded.

Blaine laughed with derision. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" Finn was angry. He felt the injustice of what was happening, but he felt powerless too and he didn't like it. "Let me help you," he said. He reached out a hand, but Blaine stepped backwards.

He shook his head. "You can't help," he said quietly.

"Who is it?"

Blaine's eyes had filled with tears, but he stared at Finn unashamedly.

"You can't help," he said again. His voice was barely a whisper.

Finn closed the gap between them. "I can if you let me." He reached out a hand again and took the hem of Blaine's jumper. Blaine winced, but he didn't move.

Finn lifted the jumper and saw the discolouration on Blaine's body. The violent purple bruising that was splattered over his white flesh.

Blaine stared at Finn, watching him.

"You can't help," he said again and took his jumper from Finn's fingers and hid his body again.

It was worse than Finn thought. Blaine had been pummelled. And some of the bruises were yellow. Old. He wasn't sure what to say, but he sensed that Blaine was ready to run.

"Is it someone in school?" Finn said. He tried to keep his voice even. He wanted to smash whoever it was hurting Blaine.

Blaine shook his head. "Look. I know you want to help. And I know you probably think this is bad, but actually, it was more a misunderstanding and I'm pretty sure it won't happen again."

Finn frowned. He noticed Blaine had looked down and was now unable to meet his gaze. He was protecting someone.

Blaine looked up and smiled suddenly. It was out of place.

"I appreciate your concern," he said. "Really I do, but it's personal, and I would appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself."

"Please, Blaine. Don't do this."

Blaine ran his hand through his hair in agitation. "I'm asking you to leave it," he said. His voice wavered. He looked desperate and, Finn thought, scared.

Finn nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll back off and I'll tell everyone else to back off, but you have to promise two things."

"Well, that depends," Blaine said, trying to sound flippant.

"You have to promise not to be afraid of asking for help. Night or day," Finn said. "I'll come."

Blaine nodded. Just a slight inclination of the head.

"Okay," he said quietly. "And the second thing?"

"You have to come to the auditorium." Blaine went to protest, but Finn stopped him. "I think Brittany has a treat in store or everyone," he said.

* * *

"Well?" Mr Schue said, as he walked to meet Finn.

"He's on his way here," Finn replied. He waited until Kurt was within ear shot. He deflected his question. "He promised to come," he said, "but he wanted me to ask you not to say anything." He sighed, troubled. "He's not ready to talk," he said. "We need to give him time…"

"Time for someone to continue bashing him?" Kurt hissed angrily.

Finn put a hand on Kurt's arm. "If we push it," he said. "He's going to run away. He just needs to know we're here for him and when he's ready…

"This is ridiculous," Kurt said interrupting him.

"Finn's right," Mr Schue said. "He knows we know and that will make it easier for him to come to any one of us. When he's ready."

"And in the meantime?" Kurt knew they were right, but he hated feeling so helpless. "There has to be something we can do."

"There is," Finn said. "We show him he's not alone."

* * *

Blaine was sitting next to Kurt. He took his hand and squeezed gently. It meant so much that he had said nothing. He had walked into the auditorium and was relieved there had been no knowing glances or awkward murmurs. But he knew Kurt would be struggling not to ask him; not to try and push him to get help. He knew he would be feeling worried and angry, but his silence meant he understood his reasons not to talk.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered without looking at Kurt.

Brittany was sitting crossed legged on the stage. She had Lord Tubbington in a cat basket facing her and Puck was sitting, looking somewhat bemused, with his guitar. He was strumming the tune to Cat Steven's, 'I love my dog', only Brittany had changed the lyrics to, 'I love my cat'. She was singing shamelessly to Lord Tubbington and when the song ended, she stood up and faced the other Glee members.

"I just think Cat Stevens didn't fully understand, with a name like Cat, the confusion he would cause, when he sang about a dog. By changing his lyrics, I think I have probably created a truer and more personal, song. One he would be proud of." She smiled at everyone. "Plus, everyone knows, cats are way better than dogs."

Kurt stood up.

"I have a song," he said. He looked at Blaine. "This is for you," he said. He smiled and walked up to the stage, wiping away his tears.

He gave Puck some sheet music and turned to face the other Glee members, but he only saw Blaine.

He began to sing and his voice filled the auditorium;

'How can I tell you, that I love you…'

Puck began to strum gently on his guitar. It was a haunting melody. Beautiful.

As Kurt sang, he was unable to control his tears, but it didn't matter. His soul was speaking to Blaine's;

'Wherever I am, I am always walking with you,

Always walking with you…'

Blaine sat feeling as loved as a person could feel. For a moment, Finn's words in the bathroom and Kurt's expression of love filled him so completely and he felt less afraid. He glanced at Mr Schue just as his teacher looked his way. He saw the care and love in his eyes too.

Maybe they could help.

Kurt finished his song and time seemed to stand still for a moment.

Blaine stood up and as he did, pain exploded across his side as if a fist had landed. He screwed up his face and held his breath as it peaked and then subsided. Before he opened his eyes again, he saw his dad's face. It was coloured red with fury, and he was shouting and spitting as he stood over Blaine.

If he told anyone, things would get worse. The very best thing he could do, was keep a low profile and pretend. He looked at Kurt and smiled.

"I have to go," he said, and he walked from the auditorium.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt took a deep breath. He had agonized for days about what he was about to do. He had gone backwards and forwards on his decision until he felt as if he was going mad. It was a conversation with his dad that had led him, finally, to this point.

Kurt knew he was lucky having a dad like Burt. He was supportive and loving and he was guided by his wisdom. He had asked him outright the night before.

"How would you feel if I was getting beaten up and no one told you about it?"

Burt had looked at Kurt, his eyes blazing. The colour had run from his face and he looked ready to go on a rampage. Kurt quickly touched his dad's arm. "I'm not being beaten up, Dad."

Burt relaxed, but only a little. "What's this all about then, Kurt?"

Kurt smiled reassuringly. "It's a dilemma and I just want to know your thoughts. If I was, and my friends knew, but didn't tell you, what would you say?"

Burt sighed. "If you were suffering and your friends did nothing…" He shook his head. "I would find it very hard to forgive them." He nudged his son. "You wanna tell me what's going on, son?"

Kurt smiled again. "Honestly, dad. I'm fine. I promise."

Only Kurt wasn't fine. What was happening to Blaine was killing him. He couldn't function properly at school. He couldn't sleep at night and Blaine was still distant. He was pretending that everything was okay, but Kurt knew it wasn't. And he knew that Blaine needed help.

He walked up the path and knocked on the door.

A middle-aged man wearing a red vest top opened the door. He peered at Kurt in suspicion. Kurt smiled.

"Mr Anderson?" he said. "I'm a friend of Blaine's. Can I come in?"

The man opened the door wider and stared at Kurt. He looked down the path behind him.

"Where is he?" he said.

"At school," Kurt said. "I'm breaking the rules, but I need to talk to you about something…" He trailed off and waited.

He had only ever met Blaine's dad once before and then briefly. It had been July 4th celebration at school and all the parents were there. Blaine's dad had pretty much kept himself to himself, but Kurt's dad had been like that too, for the longest time.

Mr Anderson looked Kurt up and down.

"What do you need to talk about?" he said.

Kurt's courage suddenly failed him. He had expected to be invited in, but the reception, so far, was pretty cool, and doubt, once again, crept into his conscience.

"Maybe this was a mistake," he said.

Mr Anderson opened the door wider.

"If it's about Blaine, I should know," he said. He seemed concerned all of a sudden and Kurt thought of his own dad's reaction. He had to tell him.

"Blaine's not been himself," Kurt said awkwardly. He glanced around. "Maybe we should go in."

"Just tell me." Mr Anderson was looking agitated now and clearly upset. "Please."

Kurt nodded. "Okay. Erm, it's just, we think, me and the other Glee members, Blaine's being bullied."

"Bullied?" Mr Anderson folded his arms across his chest. He was a big man, going grey and with an unhealthy complexion. Blaine couldn't be more different from his father.

Kurt nodded. "Beaten up," he said quietly.

Mr Anderson said nothing for a while and Kurt wondered if he should comfort him. The stains on his vest repelled him, but he was clearly struggling to deal with the news.

"Are you sure?" he asked suddenly. Kurt noticed his eyes were the same colour as Blaine's, but they were dull and lifeless. "Did he tell you?" He blinked slowly.

"He has bruises all over his body," Kurt said. "And he's in pain." Mr Anderson shook his head and dropped his arms to his sides. He shook his head as if in disbelief. "I'm so sorry, Mr Anderson," Kurt said. "I just thought you should know."

Mr Anderson looked at Kurt. "Thanks for telling me," he said. He peered at Kurt. "Who are you?" he asked.

Kurt held out his hand. "Kurt," he said.

Mr Anderson took Kurt's hand slowly and squeezed. He seemed to be studying his face.

"You did the right thing, Kurt," he said finally, releasing Kurt's hand. He smiled sombrely and disappeared inside his house.

Now, back at school, Kurt wasn't so sure. Blaine was once again very distant and even when Mercedes belted out 'Peace Train' and Artie and Sam performed 'Wide World', he showed no interest.

But his dad knew now. Things would get better. They had to.

Finn sat down next to Kurt. "How you doing?" he whispered.

Kurt shrugged. "You know…" He trailed off and sighed. He felt the sudden onset of tears, but blinked them away before they had their way. "I had to do something," he said.

Finn stared at him. "Dude," he said. "What did you do?"

Kurt looked at Finn. Somehow, this huge, macho, football star had become his friend. He felt safer in the school with Finn looking out for him.

"I told his dad."

Finn frowned. "You did what?"

"I had to," Kurt hissed back. "I couldn't sit around and let this carry on, Finn, okay? Look at him," he glanced at Blaine who was sitting, alone, two rows in front. "He doesn't care about anything anymore."

Finn glanced at Blaine too, but then he looked back at Kurt. He looked angry.

"Did it occur to you that his dad is the one with the heavy hand?"

"What? No!" Kurt shook his head. "It's not his dad, Finn."

"How do you know?"

"First of all, because it's just started happening. If it was his dad, it would have been going on for years."

"You don't know what goes on in that house," Finn said. He stood up. "Bad call, dude," he said and walked away.

Kurt felt himself shaking. He pictured Blaine's dad and the house behind him, that he had taken pains not to let Kurt see inside. But that didn't mean anything. It couldn't. He stared at the back of Blaine's head and suddenly, Blaine turned around. He smiled at Kurt and it was a glimpse of the old Blaine.

'I have to ask him outright,' Kurt thought, and he suddenly felt cold.

* * *

Blaine leant against the locker. He looked cute and Kurt felt his heart swell with love and desire.

"How are things?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. "Better," he said. He smiled. "I know you've been worried, Kurt, but you don't need to anymore, okay?"

Kurt nodded. "I have something to ask you," he said quietly. The noise around them grew in intensity. "But now here." He took Blaine's hand and pulled him along to the empty choir room. He closed the door and faced Blaine. He took a deep breath. "Does your dad beat you?" he asked.

Blaine's face crumpled with confusion, but then he suddenly looked angry. Kurt went to touch him, but Blaine backed away.

"You couldn't do it, could you?" Kurt shook his head. He didn't understand. "You couldn't keep out of it." His beautiful eyes flashed dangerously. "You're asking if my dad hits me?" He shook his head. "My dad? How would you like it if accused Burt of hitting you?"

"It's not like that…" Kurt stammered. "I didn't mean…" He put out his hands to Blaine. "I'm sorry," he said. "Please…"

Blaine batted Kurt's hands away.

"If you can't be my friend and let me handle this, then we can't be friends." Blaine walked to the door and yanked it open.

"Wait," Kurt said. "I have something to tell you…" He realised now it had been a mistake, telling his dad, and their friendship would suffer because of it, but he had to tell Blaine the truth. But Blaine stopped him.

"I don't want to speak to you, Kurt," he said. "Not today, not tomorrow and never again about this, okay?"

Kurt's tears finally had their way and despite the noise in the corridors outside, he had never felt so alone.

* * *

Blaine felt numb as he walked away from school. His heart was hammering in his chest and his head felt fuzzy. How had Kurt known? Why couldn't he be brave and admit the truth to him? Instead, he had turned away from the most important person in his life.

He began his journey home, slowly. He didn't want to live this life anymore. His dad had been a good dad, but losing his job, losing the woman he loved, had changed him. He drank too much and he gambled. He was failing at life and he was taking it out on Blaine. But no more.

Blaine stopped his car outside his house. He gripped the steering wheel. He was afraid, but he had to be brave. He would talk to his dad while he was sober. Tell him that he would report him if he hurt him anymore. And if necessary, he would call Finn and he would call Kurt too.

He didn't have to do this alone.

He opened the car door and walked, on shaking legs, towards his house.

The front door opened, and his dad was standing there.

"We need to talk, son," his dad said, and beckoned Blaine inside.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this update has taken so long. It's been a hectic time. Your reviews (even though there's not many for this fanfic!) are greatly appreciated and makes me want to continue, so thank you :-)


	5. Chapter 5

When Blaine was little, he remembered how his dad used to be able to stop him speaking with just a look. As he got older, he learned to keep his opinions to himself. He never challenged his dad. He was too afraid of that look. He gave his mum that same look too. Which was why she probably had an affair. And why she left him later on. Everyone agreed Blaine should stay with his dad. Even Blaine. He loved school. He loved his dad too and saw the hurt his mum had inflicted upon him.

Blaine thought, as time passed, he would be his dad's equal. He was wrong. His Dad was deluged with bitterness and regret. It flowed through his veins, like poison. It twisted his mind and turned his heart to stone and his hands into fists.

* * *

Blaine followed his dad into the living room. He noticed the carpet was sticky from spilt beer. It was no longer the bright room it had been when his mum was there. It was gloomy with a stale smell and a coating of dust. Blaine didn't bother trying to keep that room clean like the rest of the house. His dad teased him for it and took pleasure in creating a mess.

His dad turned the tv off and looked at Blaine.

"We have a problem, son," he said.

Blaine felt his palms sweating. He was nervous, but he tried not to show it. Anything that could be construed as weakness by his dad gave him ammunition.

"What's that?" he asked casually.

He dad took a deep, cleansing breath.

"Your little friend has been here…" He closed the gap between himself and Blaine. Blaine winced at the expression on his face. He felt his heart begin to race.

"Kurt…"

"That was it. _Kurt._" He laughed. "Can you guess what the wanted?"

Blaine swallowed. _How could you Kurt? _Blaine shook his head. _And why didn't you tell me? _

The clock on the wall seemed suddenly so loud. It filled the room.

"He told me, on _my _doorstep, that my son was being bullied." He clenched his feet. His eyes blazed. He was breathing through his nose. Panting almost. Blaine no longer heard the ticking of the clock. He took a step backwards.

"He had no right," he said. He hated himself. He wanted to sound strong and brave. "He's worried about me, Dad." He felt himself shrinking before him. "I have these bruises…"

"You showed him your bruises?"

Blaine shook his head. "I was in pain and they saw…"

"So, it's not just this little Kurt, then?" Blaine swallowed again. He was so thirsty. His dad, inexplicably, smiled again. "And they've seen your bruises, have they?" He stepped towards his son and discarded the smile. "Shall we give them something to look at, son?"

Blaine didn't even see his dad's fist as it connected with his face. There was an explosion of pain that travelled down to his neck. He fell to the ground. He saw the blood. He put up his hand. Both hands. It might have been to plead or to pray, but his dad ignored the gesture. And he ignored Blaine when he called out. And he ignored him when he cried.

* * *

"I need to talk to you…" Kurt trailed off. Blaine was at his locker with his back to the world. He had frozen when he heard Kurt's voice. Kurt put a hand against his back, but Blaine flinched. "He told you, didn't he?" Kurt bit his lip. "Look, I'm sorry and I tried to tell you yesterday…" He stopped.

Blaine turned around slowly. He was wearing dark glasses. That was the first thing Kurt noticed. The second thing was the cut on his lip and the swelling on his cheek, partially hidden by his disguise. He put up a hand to his mouth. "Oh my god, Blaine!" He didn't try to check the tears that flowed down his cheeks. "Oh my god," he said again.

Blaine stared at Kurt. He realised how much he loved him, but his love was not enough to save him. He blinked away his own tears and walked away. He left Kurt, broken at the locker.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt. You okay?" Finn sat down next to Kurt and nudged him with his elbow. Kurt looked at him and shook his head. "What's happened?"

"You were right," Kurt whispered. He felt so ashamed. So powerless. More tears fell. He wasn't sure how it was possible to cry so much. "It was his dad…" His face crumpled. "And I've made it so much worse."

Finn didn't say anything at first. He wasn't sure what to say. "You cared enough to want to help," he said, eventually. He looked around. "Where is he?"

Kurt shrugged. "He was in earlier, but I'm guessing he won't come to Glee." He hung his head in shame.

Mr Schue walked in. He looked troubled.

"There is a weird atmosphere in here," Mercedes said. She was sitting at the back next to Santana who was leaning against Brit.

"It's the full moon," Brittany said. "It's always weird at the full moon." She smiled at Santana. "Werewolves," she whispered. She jerked her head in Puck's direction. "I think he may be one."

Santana giggled.

Sam was watching Kurt and Finn. "Mercedes is right," he said. "What's going on?"

Blaine walked in. He stopped in the doorway and for a moment it looked as if he might flee. Kurt stood up, but Blaine put up a hand.

"Sit down, Kurt," he said. He walked into the middle of the choir room as Kurt was tugged back into his seat by Finn. "I have a song to sing." He turned to Brad and put some sheet music down for him. He cleared his throat. "I know we've probably wrapped up the Cat Steven's week," he said to Mr Schue, "but I have something I need to say." The piano began to fill the room. "This is called _Father and Son."_

He started to sing.

"It's not time to make a change, just relax, take it easy…"

Kurt felt his heart breaking as Blaine sang. His dark glasses seemed somehow obscene. And his bright yellow jumper seemed obscene too.

His voice, usually so strong and clear, was breaking with his emotion. Kurt could hear the pain. Everyone could hear it. And then he removed his glasses.

A collective gasp rippled around the choir room.

"From the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen now…" Blaine sang with his soul. Telling them all. Wanting them to understand.

"All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside…" The beauty and rawness of his voice made the mess of his face somehow more horrific.

Every pair of eyes in the choir room was trained on Blaine. Mr Schue didn't bother trying to wipe the tear from his cheek. He wanted to hold Blaine and tell him everything would be okay, but he wasn't sure it would be.

"There's a way and I know, that I have to go away. I know, I have to go…"

The song finished and no one said a word. Mr Schue was the first to move. He put his hand on Blaine's arm.

"We need to sort this out, Blaine," he said.

Blaine hung his head and sighed. Then he looked up and a ghost of a smile crossed his face.

"No," he said. He looked at Kurt. "Now you know," he said. He looked at everyone. "Now you all know."

He turned and walked away.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thoughts?


	6. Chapter 6

Mr Schue put down the phone and then looked up at Kurt and Finn.

"What did they say?" Mr Schue shook his head in reply. Kurt was incredulous. "Nothing? They're going to do nothing?"

Mr Schue sighed. "They can't do anything formal unless Blaine asks for their help." He offered a weak smile. "But they're going to send a car around to speak to his dad." It somehow seemed a pointless gesture.

"And that might make it a whole lot worse."

Finn looked at Kurt and nodded his agreement. "Kurt's right, Mr Schue. If he knows there's nothing they can do… he'll take it out on Blaine and it will be our fault!"

"We have to do something…" Kurt trailed off. He had never felt so helpless, but the terrible truth was, he knew there was very little they could do.

The door opened and Miss Pillsbury walked in. She had a troubled look upon her face.

"He's not in class and nobody's seen him since this morning…" She looked at Kurt and Finn. "What next?" she asked gently. She shifted her gaze to Mr Schue; how she loved him, but Mr Schue was staring blankly ahead.

"I don't know," he said in defeat. "I just don't know."

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Blaine knew what he had to do.

He was standing in his bedroom. He looked around the walls, at the childish pictures. At his cork board and the photos that showed him smiling and happy. They meant nothing to him anymore. If he was going to do this thing, he had to shrug off his past and leave it there.

He lay down on his bead and closed his eyes. He could see his dad's face. Red with fury and mad eyes with tiny black pinpricks in the middle. He felt the spittle, as it landed on his own face, but he had been too afraid to wipe it away. His dad had never hit him on the face before, and somehow, it had made it better. It had been easier to pretend. Now he felt like a victim. Now he felt exposed and violated and ashamed. But no more. He couldn't allow it to go on on. He couldn't allow his dad to hit him again. It wasn't just his body he was destroying, it was his soul.

He opened his eyes. _No more._

Blaine stood up and went downstairs to wait for his dad.

* * *

"I know it sounds extreme, but it's the best I could come up with, okay?" Finn turned on Kurt angrily.

Kurt put out a hand. "I know and I'm sorry, but going around there and bashing him, just doesn't make any sense."

"I wanna make him pay for what he's done, Kurt." Finn's face was contorted by his fury.

Puck walked in. "Let's do this," he said, cracking his knuckles.

Finn shook his head.

"We're not doing this, Puck," Kurt said.

"No offence, but you'd just get in the way."

"No one is going to end up in jail, because of that man," Kurt said, ignoring the jibe. He took a steadying breath. "I know you're all worried, but we have to find Blaine and convince him he needs help." He blinked away his tears. "Even if it means losing his friendship. We have to make him see."

Puck looked at Finn, then back at Kurt. He shrugged. "So where is he then?"

"I don't know…" Kurt sat down next to Finn. He felt sick inside. "Ever since he walked out of here this morning, he hasn't answered his phone…"

"What about home?"

"Mercedes and Sam have gone to check, but they said they'd call if he was there and that was over an hour ago…" Kurt shrugged.

Finn stood up. His clenched fists belied his calm countenance.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he said. "I can't just sit here… I have to do something…" Kurt went to speak, but Finn cut him off. "I've heard what you said, but it's not right he's getting away with this. I want him to try picking on someone his own size…"

He walked out of the choir room on jerky legs. His body rigid with anger.

Kurt looked up at Puck. "You have to stop him," he said desperately.

Puck shook his head slowly. "I don't think I want to," he said. He turned to go.

"Puck, wait!" Kurt stood up. "He's your friend."

Puck nodded. "Yeah, and I'm going to watch his back. He's not doing this alone."

"That's not how friendship works, Puck. You have to make him understand what he's risking. If he lays a finger on that man, it will be _his _future in jeopardy." He knew better than to touch Puck, but he walked closer to him. "Think about it. Finn's Mom doesn't have much. He'll get kicked out of school. He'll miss out on any chance of a football scholarship…" He trailed off and sat back down in defeat. "Do what you have to do," he said finally.

Sam and Mercedes walked in.

"He wasn't there…" Sam looked at Puck. "Everything okay?" he asked, sensing the tension.

Puck nodded. "It will be," he said and walked out of the room.

* * *

Downstairs in the kitchen of his family home, Blaine was moving as if in a trance. He felt as if he was drifting to the bottom of the sea. Every movement was slow.

Not long, he told himself. He opened the kitchen drawer and looked at all the knives.

He heard his dad snoring from the front room. He pictured him, slumped on his chair. Asleep and drooling.

Never again, he told himself.

* * *

Officer Carlisle leant back in his seat and closed his eyes. It had been a long shift and he had one more job he had to do before he could go home. Just a quick house-call. Nothing more than a mild warning to some guy who had been beating on his kid. He hated those bastards. They didn't care about him standing there telling him to back off. They smiled at him, but their eyes were full of contempt. He would like to have a moment alone with them.

The door opened and his partner, Wiley jumped in. She handed him a coffee and a bag. He inhaled the warm, sweet odour.

Officer Wiley yawned and then sipped her own coffee and then laughed at her partner.

"You look like you died and went to heaven," she said.

Officer Carlisle took his nose out of the bag. "I gotta eat me one of these before I go anywhere," he said taking a huge bite of donut.

Officer Wiley shrugged. "You got no argument from me," she said, plunging her hand into the bag.

* * *

Blaine saw his hand shaking uncontrollably as he selected a knife. He had felt so numb before. So cold, but now suddenly, he was in turmoil. His face crumpled in his forgotten pain, but it wasn't pain of his body, it was pain of his heart. He saw Kurt's face flash before his eyes.

"Kurt," he said softly. He held the knife tightly and watched his knuckles go white. The pain surged recklessly inside him and for a moment, he felt he would fall to the floor, but he couldn't be weak. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as tears streaked down his face.

"That you, Blaine?" his dad called out. His voice sounded thick with sleep and booze.

Blaine closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

"Coming, Dad," he said and wiped the tears from his eyes.

* * *

Finn stood looking at the house. It looked like a regular house. The only thing was the drawn curtains. It was the middle of the afternoon and it was a warm day. He imagined Blaine's dad sitting in his own filth. He imagined him enjoying himself as he laid into his son. _His friend. _

"So, what's the plan?" Puck asked. He looked sideways at Finn. He trusted Finn to do the right thing.

"No plan," Finn said quietly.

"Dude, we gotta have a plan."

Finn looked at Puck. "I going to tell him, nicely, he has to stop hitting his son and that he needs professional help…" He held up a pamphlet. Miss Pillsbury had given it to him; 'I'm a Monster because I hit my son: What now?'

"And if he doesn't listen?"

"I'll make him."

Puck sighed. "Listen, I got your back," he said. He placed a hand on Finn's shoulder. "But you gotta think about your future…." He trailed off. He wasn't very good at motivational speaking. He tried to remember what Kurt had said. It had all made startling good sense to him. "If you get busted for assault, you'll lose any chance of wining a football scholarship."

Finn frowned. "Did Kurt tell you to say this?"

Puck nodded. "It makes sense though, doesn't it? Why risk it all for _him_?" He gestured to the house.

"I'm not risking it for him," Finn said. "I'm risking it for Blaine." He smiled. "And besides, it's not assault if he throws the first punch."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the slow updates... :-(


	7. Chapter 7

Nothing seemed real. Blaine knew people cared about him. Not just Kurt, but everyone in Glee. He could have answered the door to Sam and Mercedes, but what then? What could anyone do to help him?

He steadied his breathing and fought with his tears. Was he really going to give everything up? He gripped the knife tighter in his hand. He had to. His dad called out again.

"Fetch me a beer."

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and then walked towards his dad. There was no beer. Just the knife. His dad was slumped in his usual chair. He looked up at Blaine and then glanced at the weapon in his hand. A moment of surprise flickered across his face, then he sneered at his son.

"No beer?"

Blaine advanced towards his dad.

* * *

Officer Carlisle wiped his mouth with a crisp white handkerchief. He noticed his partner grinning at him. He replaced his hanky and gave her a sheepish smile.

"You got a problem Jen?" he asked.

Officer Wiley's grin grew. "I don't got me a problem," she said. "But can I borrow your hanky?"

Officer Carlisle pulled a face. He was used to being mocked about his proclivity for always having a clean handkerchief about his person. His last partner had found it funny too. And every birthday, his precinct decorated his desk, not with balloons, but with handkerchiefs.

"You're funny," he said to her and turned over the ignition of the patrol car. "You ready to go and speak to this scum, or you wanna keep on hassling me for liking to have a clean mouth?"

Jen Carlisle sniggered. She loved working with Eric. He was good for a laugh and she secretly enjoyed how clean he was, and how tidy he kept their car. And he always smelt nice too. She blushed to herself. _Get a grip_ a little voice whispered.

"Let's go and sort this scumbag out," she replied, getting back to business.

* * *

"What are you doing, son?" Blaine's dad struggled to his feet. He held his arms out wide. "You gonna kill an innocent, unarmed man?"

Blaine frowned. "Innocent?" He stepped towards his dad. His dad kept his eyes on the knife in his son's hand. "Look at me, dad…" Blaine took another step. There was just a small area of greasy carpet between them. His dad looked at him, and for a moment, nothing happened.

Blaine tried to understand what his dad was thinking. He tried to look beyond the watery eyes, to something else. He tried to see love and guilt, or sorrow. Anything. Fear even…

"What is it about hurting me that you enjoy?" he asked. He shook his head, dislodging the unwelcome image of himself cowering on the floor, pleading. "Does it give you a sense of power? Or do you just like hearing me cry and beg…?" His dad said nothing. "I actually want you to answer…"

His dad cleared his throat. His pale eyes never left Blaine's face. Then he smiled at him.

"I'm ashamed of you, if you must know," he said. "You mean nothing to me and your presence here, bothers me…"

Despite himself, the words cut Blaine as if he had turned the knife on himself. He looked down at it. It would do a lot of damage. Irreparable, probably. He looked back up and held out the knife, the handle facing towards his dad's flabby stomach.

"Take it…" The smile left his dad's face. He suspected a trick. He looked down at the knife and then back at Blaine. Blaine nodded and closed the gap between them. "Take it, _dad,_" he said. His dad slowly took hold of the handle and Blaine gripped his hand, tightly, with both of his. "Now kill me with it," he hissed. He began to ease the knife towards his stomach.

His dad realised what was happening and fought back; the point of the knife was perilously close to Blaine's abdomen. He pushed himself closer and the point touched the fabric of his jumper. Blaine suddenly thought how ironic it was, that he was wearing red. It would make the blood less noticeable.

"I said to kill me," he said again. The expression on his dad's face turned to horror and Blaine realised he was scared. It made him feel stronger.

"Kill me," he said. "Because if you don't, I'm going to kill you…"

* * *

"Let's do this." Finn took a steadying breath. He walked towards Blaine's house, noticing the drawn curtains downstairs. Sam and Mercedes had said Blaine wasn't there, but Finn didn't want to see Blaine. He wanted to see his dad, and he was certain he would be there, wallowing in the gloom. Drunk probably. He felt a surge of renewed anger and clenched his fists.

He banged on the door.

"Mr Anderson, I need to speak with you!" He heard Puck's heavy breathing next to him.

"Open up," Puck shouted. He went to the window and banged hard with his fist. "We know you're in there, we just want to talk."

"Is there a problem here?"

Finn and Puck spun around. They hadn't heard a car pulling up, but two police officers were standing there.

"Yeah, you could say there was a problem…" Finn glanced at Puck, nervously. He didn't want to get him in anymore trouble with the cops, but Puck let Finn do the talking. "Our friend lives here…"

"So, what's all the banging about?"

The police officer was taught, his hand resting on top of his gun. His colleague, a woman with short dark hair mirrored her partner's stance.

"Why don't you boys head home," she said with a smile. "We need to speak to Mr Anderson…"

"Speaking won't do anything," Puck said aggressively.

Finn put a hand on his arm. "We're just worried about our friend," he said.

The woman officer relaxed. "Okay," she said. "We understand that, right Eric?"

Eric nodded. "Blaine Anderson your friend?"

"Yeah, he's our friend and he's turning up to school with bruises every day."

"That's rough…"

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Pucks eyes blazed and he grew stiff with anger.

"Take it easy." The male officer held up a hand. "I understand why you want to give this guy a taste of his own medicine. Trust me." He pulled a face. The kid with the mohawk reminded him of himself when he was younger. He had a stepdad who enjoying hitting his mum and he got in trouble more than once for retaliating. He glanced at the bigger boy. A football player, he thought. No doubt. "Do me a favour, will you?" He took a step towards them. "Let us handle this and then we can try and work something out, afterwards. Maybe figure out a way to get your friend the help he needs, okay?"

Finn nodded and took hold of Puck's arm.

"We're not leaving," Finn said, as he steered Puck away from the front door.

"Just wait by the car, okay?" The officer smiled. "And stay put."

Finn nodded again and Puck felt his anger dissipate. He glanced at the female officer and was hit by a rush of hormones. She smiled at him and Puck wondered if she liked younger men.

* * *

The door was opened by a middle-aged man, with greying hair, wearing stained clothes. He was a disgusting sight, but it wasn't his appearance that bothered Officers Carlisle and Wiley, it was the huge knife he was holding in his hand.

They both reached for their guns at the same time.

"Sir, put down the knife…" Officer Wiley spoke with an even voice. It was important not to alarm the armed man. He surprised her by grinning.

"Sure," he said. "Where would you like me to put it?"

Officer Carlisle thought how good it would feel to wipe the smile from this man's face.

"Put the knife on the ground," he said calmly. He noticed a smear of blood on it. "You cut yourself, Sir?" he asked.

The man stooped to put the knife down.

"My son ran into it," he said. He grinned again, but his grin disappeared when both officers cocked their guns.

* * *

The choir room was quiet except for the sound of someone crying. It was a mournful sound, but no one had the heart to tell Sugar to be quiet.

Mr Schue looked around at his students. "I know this is hard," he said, "but it's all we know." He shrugged, defeated, despairing. "I'm sorry…"

"Will that monster face any charges?"

Mr Schue shook his head, but it was Finn who spoke. He looked across at Santana.

"No. There's nothing they can do about it, not without Blaine…" He trailed off.

"Are the police sure he's not been buried under the kitchen floor?"

Rachel glared at Santana. "It's no joking matter, Santana," she said.

Santana glared back. "Who's joking?" She stood up and walked to the front of the choir room. "Seriously," she said. "This is nuts. How can he be walking around, free, after everything he's done? It's not fair…" Tears spilled from her eyes and she brushed them away, angrily. "It's not fair."

Kurt walked into the choir room. His eyes were red from crying. He walked over to Santana and took her hand. Then he smiled, weakly.

"If you don't mind, Mr Schue," he said. "I have a song to sing. I know we finished the Cat Stevens week, but I think this song is perfect."

Mr Schue nodded and took a seat in the front row, next to Arty.

Kurt kept hold of Santana's hand and squeezed hard.

"I want to try and be strong," he said. "But I don't think I could do it, without all of you…" He wiped a tear and smiled. He turned to Brad. "You know what to play," he said.

Brad's gentle piano playing filled the choir room hauntingly and Kurt began to sing…

"Now that I've lost everything to you, you say you wanna start something new, and it's breaking my heart you're leaving, baby I'm grieving…"

His grip on Santana's hand was keeping him steady on his feet and when she joined in, he felt stronger. Then Brittany stood and took hold of his other hand. He felt their love and saw the love of the people in front of him.

"Ooh baby, baby, it's a wide world, it's hard to get by just upon a smile…"

* * *

Blaine shrugged his bag over his shoulder. He felt freer than he had felt in a long time and he knew he was far enough away now to avoid bumping into anyone he knew. He hadn't planned on hitching a lift, but he was glad he had. The truck driver had been friendly and hadn't asked awkward questions.

Now he was a stranger to every person he met. He knew it would be tough. He had little money and no plan, but he wouldn't have to face humiliation anymore. He thought back to his dad. To the moment when he thought he would feel the knife going through his flesh. They had struggled, but his dad had been stronger and wrestled the knife from him, cutting himself in the process.

But Blaine had seen his dad's fear and it had galvanised him. The knife had dropped to the floor and Blaine had walked away. He had thought he needed to die to be free, to feel peace, but he had been wrong.

"You'll never hurt me again," he said to his dad.

And he walked away without a backward glance.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope people approve of this ending. I might consider writing an AU about Blaine on the road if people think it's a good idea. Would love to receive your lovely reviews. Not so keen on the not so lovely ones, but feel free to be honest. :-)


End file.
